Five years ago, to celebrate my mother’s 70th birthday, my family rented a big-ass villa in Tuscany. We were there for a month, and most days were...

In this eight-part series, I am choosing a grape varietal and searching for a dish that shows it off best. When I find the dish, I then test between 10 and 20 wines made with that grape, and narrow it down to the three I think make for a great fit. This week it’s cabernet franc and next week, riesling. Give a pairing a try and if you think it makes for a winning match, let me know at criticsnotebook@gmail.com

Some wines make me think of people, be it someone I know or even a celebrity. When I drink merlot wines, I think of Robert Wagner, chardonnay is so Julie Andrews, and sauvignon blanc reminds me of Sharon Stone. Cabernet sauvignon could be Michael Douglas or Pierce Brosnan. But if I had to put a face on cabernet franc, it would have be the reluctant, reclusive and eccentric star Daniel Day-Lewis. He’s handsome and intriguing, but you never know what to expect. He has a reputation for being difficult, yet apparently he’s utterly charming. Despite his inherent elegance, in certain roles, he comes off as rough or unlikable. That’s cabernet franc, all right.

A varietal known primarily for the role it plays in blends in such regions as Bordeaux, cabernet franc can also stand alone, especially in colder-climate wine regions of Chile, Argentina, South Africa and Australia. Its ultimate expression is to be found in France’s Loire Valley in the appellations of Anjou, Chinon, Bourgeuil and Saumur-Champagny. Canada also produces its fair share of cabernet franc wines, especially in Ontario, where it’s also used to make ice wines.

Chances are, however, that if you’ve tasted a cab franc it’s from the Loire. And I’m thinking that there’s an outside chance that at first sip, you found it a little odd, a little austere. Cab franc wines are known for their notes of raspberries, black currant and violets, but also for more vegetal aromas such as green pepper, tomato leaf, ground pepper and chlorophyll. Some cab franc wines emit animal aromas best described as “sweaty horse.” I also like the description of sommelier Aurelia Fillion of Bu sur le Web (busurleweb.com) that it smells like a freshly broken branch. New World cabernet franc winemakers tend to delay harvesting as late as possible if only to minimize those leafy green notes, whereas Old World cab franc producers relish the flavour of ripe piquant fruit with a delicate herbal finish.

There’s no denying that horse sweat and branches are not exactly what spring to mind when seeking out a wine to match the Sunday chicken or roast. And to be blunt, I have sampled certain Chinons that take that barnyard/unshowered horse taste to a whole new level. The cheaper ones also tend to be thin and acidic, or worse yet, too rustic, with heavy tannins.

Yet as off-putting as all those green flavours sound in a glass of wine, they do well with vegetable dishes – think zucchini and mushroom lasagna. As a friend recently said to me, cabernet franc, at its best is like “running through a green pepper field naked chewing on strawberries. The weather is overcast, it smells like rain and you end up wrapped in a blanket, fireside.” Nice.

With smoother tannins than its offspring cabernet sauvignon (which just so happens to be a cross between cabernet franc and sauvignon blanc), the best cabernet francs are delicate yet complex, with a lightness that make them one of the more refreshing red wines. And when you hit an especially lush one, it provides a winning pairing for everything from beer can chicken, to sautéed calf’s liver, to braised meat dishes, to grilled pork chops, to blood pudding, to good ol’ steak frites. They also benefit greatly from aging. After 10 years of bottle aging, a good cab franc should take on tastes of woodland strawberries, rose petals, spices and truffles.

Frankly, I love cabernet franc because it’s not easy. But I got to know cabernet franc wines in, of all places, restaurants. Always looking to keep my wine purchases between $50 and $60, I was often faced with little choice in the French red wine category, save for southern wines that were often rough on the food. Enter the Loire reds made with cabernet franc that, though at first taste would sometimes surprise me, more often than not would work very well with everything from charcuterie to grilled salmon.

Sadly, the selection of Loire reds on the majority of restaurant wine lists is paltry at best and the SAQ inventory is nothing to write home about, either. I recently tasted 14 cabernet franc wines, from $15.70 to $37, 13 of which hail from the Loire and one from Ontario. You’ll find some excellent cab francs available through private import, but my wish would be that the SAQ would increase their cab franc offerings instead of forcing us to seek out the best bottles.

In search of a dish to pair with this challenging grape, the first taste that came to mind was green pepper. But I didn’t think green bell pepper so much as green peppercorn. And as this is an elegant wine, I thought of an equally elegant dish, steak au poivre.

Wanting the sauce to dominate, I opted to serve it on a less fatty meat cut: filet mignon. As for the recipe, my beef with pepper steak is that lethal crust of peppercorns embedded in the meat, ready to singe your palate at first bite. So instead of the crust, I used black peppercorns in the sauce, strained them out before serving, and opted for the more mild green peppercorns added in the sauceboat.

The steak and sauce were terrific, but the pairing was not as smooth as I had imagined. Those leafy flavours wreaked havoc on this delicate pepper sauce, which meant that the more pungent cab francs were eliminated. In the end what worked best were the more elegant wines. My top inexpensive choice was the Chinon 2009, Couly-Dutheil ($16.10, SAQ #606343), which was simple but had nice fruit that played alongside nicely. It’s a wine I buy often, which has proven itself versatile at the dinner table, and once again it did not disappoint.

Yet ultimately it was two more pricey vinos that scored for just being far more complex than the more rustic wines on the lineup. The Chinon 2005, Château de la Grille ($26.35, SAQ #11440175) was deeply coloured, velvety on the palate and showed good fruit with nary a green note in the mix. I liked this wine best with the filet, especially the way it enhanced the meat flavour without obliterating the delicate spice. Rich and elegant, this Chinon also makes an ideal introduction for those who think cab franc is not their cup of tea.

And those naysayers might also want to try my third choice, the Saumur Champigny 2010, Terres Chaudes, Domaine des Roches Neuves ($28.15, SAQ #873943), a wine with more of a pure cab franc-flavour profile than the la Grille. Made by one of the Loire’s leading biodynamic “vignerons,” Thierry Germain, this wine is all dark red fruit, peony, a touch of cedar, and hint of pepper. Perhaps a bit strong for the dish, but what fun to drink, as if Mr. Day-Lewis himself had pulled up a chair at the table.

Steak au Poivre

Serves 4

Look for the canned green peppercorns in gourmet specialty shops and select grocery stores. In a pinch, you can substitute crushed black peppercorns or dry green peppercorns. Try to purchase filet mignon with a bit of marbling cut about 2 inches in thickness. I sourced mine from one of my favourite butchers, Norman Seltzer at L’Entrepot de Viandes in St-Leonard, 6802 Blvd. Des Grandes Prairies.

Make the shallot reduction: Combine the shallots, wine, vinegar, peppercorns and tarragon in a small, thick-bottomed saucepan. Heat over medium-high heat stirring every once and a while, until the liquid is just under the level of the shallots. Remove from heat and set aside. Reduction can be made in advance and refrigerated.

Prepare the steak: Preheat the oven to 425F. Rub the meat lightly with oil, then season the steaks with salt and a generous amount of pepper (don’t go crazy here with the pepper, just add a bit more than you usually would).

Heat the remaining oil in a thick-bottomed fry pan over high heat. Once the oil is hot, add 2 tablespoons of the butter. When the butter begins to brown, place the steaks in the pan and brown for about 4 minutes on each side (If your pan gets very hot, reduce the heat to medium-high to avoid burning the meat or butter).

Transfer the pan to the oven and roast for about 5 minutes for medium-rare, or about 8 minutes for well done (for a rare steak, don’t bother putting it in the oven at all). Remove from the oven and transfer the steaks to a plate to rest.

Make the sauce: Return the fry pan to the stovetop over medium-high heat and add the shallot reduction. Stir to scrape up any of the caramelized pan juices and fry for a couple of minutes until everything is well blended.

Remove the pan from the heat for a second and carefully stir in the cognac. Place the pan on the burner again, and cook the mixture down by half. Pour in the veal stock, stir, and reduce over medium heat until just thick enough to lightly coat the back of a spoon. Whisk in the remaining 4 tablespoons of butter one at a time, then finally whisk in the cream. Strain through a fine mesh strainer into a preheated sauce boat. Carefully stir in the crushed green peppercorns. Serve immediately with the steaks.

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